How Rage and Rejection Turned Into My First Book (And Turned Me into a Writer)
By Jules Older
It’s 1977, and we’re in the South Island of New Zealand. I'm a noob — new academic, new medical educator, new New Zealander.
I've just spoken at the New Zealand Psychological Society meeting where colleagues enthusiastically endorsed my proposal to recruit more Maori into the psychology profession and more Maori members into our nearly all Pakeha (white folks) society.
What's more, it’s not only psychologists who like my ideas — the New Zealand Medical Journal has accepted a related article on the need for more Maori doctors. I’m all smiles.
Until I'm not.
The first ‘until’ comes from the psychologists. The psych society asks me to write an article for their journal reflecting what I'd proposed at the meeting. I do so with pleasure. But instead of replying, “Thank you. Your article will appear in the next issue,” they send me this:
“Contains nothing of value, a few cranky ideas, hoary sentimental claptrap. A Mickey Mouse scheme verging on the raspberry jam approach, unethical and manipulative, arbitrary and almost certainly ineffective.”
What? Could these be the same psychologists who had been so enthusiastic at the meeting? Damn.
Still, the medical journal is publishing my piece on the issue, so…
So, no. In my med-school mailbox sits a fat envelope from the New Zealand Medical Journal. Along with my manuscript, it contains a letter from the editor: To ensure my article “wasn't offensive to Maoris,” he’d given it to a reader. Said non-Maori reader concluded that my article should not be published because it “would certainly give offense to many Maoris.”
That’s right. In the opinion of one white guy, advocating for more Maori doctors would somehow be offensive to Maori.
Based on that one opinion, the editor yanked my article. I’m enraged, but what can I do?
Three options:
Murder — no, murder isn't an option. A temptation, not an option.
Nurse a grudge for, say, the next hundred years.
TATA. Turn Adversity to Advantage.
I chose Option 3: Get revenge by writing a book — my first book — about this whole racist business and that's just what I did. I found a New Zealand publisher, garnered publicity, was interviewed on TV and made many more New Zealanders aware of the issue, my proposed solutions, and those repugnant rejections. The book’s title? The Pakeha Papers.
Until those twin rejections, I was a clinical psychologist and medical educator, not an author. I'd published a few articles in academic journals, maybe two in a newspaper and a magazine, but nary a book.
A book seemed a whole different animal. It felt too daunting. Did I have the skill? The knowledge? The sustained energy? Did I even have anything to write a book about?
The motivating power of rage trumped worries about my skill level. Rage fueled more than enough energy. Knowledge? My newly gained, first-hand experience with institutionalized racism in New Zealand’s ‘helping professions.’ And suddenly, I had all the components I needed to write a book.
By next morning, I was jotting down notes, ranting to my wife, banging away at the typewriter. I even came up with a title laced with irony. The inspiration for The Pakeha Papers was an American book written a decade earlier by Peter Maas. Its title? The Valachi Papers. Its protagonists? Not psychologists or physicians — Mafioso.
Utu! That's the Maori word for revenge.
In addition to the power of rage, two things got me through the first-book process. One was saving documents, in this case, those rejection letters. I am forever grateful I didn't burn them, or as novelist Howard Mosher used to do with his rejections, pin ‘em to the barn wall and pepper ‘em with a shotgun.
The other thing that got me through my first book was the confidence that I was doing good, making my corner of the world a better place. Never underestimate the power of righteousness.
What came of writing The Pakeha Papers? Lo, these many years later, virtually all of the Mickey Mouse, raspberry jam, unethical, offensive proposals in the articles have come to fruition. Maori numbers are way higher in medicine, psychology, almost all professions. New Zealand is a better, fairer, more decent place.
And on a personal level, two things: First, Utu! How sweet it feels. As does the satisfaction that comes from following The Pakeha Papers with a slew of other books: tree-books and e-books, books of fiction and faction, books for grownups and kids.
Rage at injustice made a writer out of me.
Jules Older teaches his award-winning course, Writing For Real, from New Zealand on Zoom. He has written for leading medical journals, published more than 25 children’s books and edited two ski magazines. His work has won awards in four countries. He and Effin Older moved back to New Zealand in 2020.